The German
by MikhailN
Summary: My first piece of fanfict. It introduces a new pair and well, just read it for yourself. I haven't done creative writing for years and apologize in advance if the story isn't to your taste. Please R
1. Chapter 1: The German

**CHAPTER 1: THE GERMAN**

Walther was a foreign man in a strange land. He had come to Italy from Germany after he had left his previous job and now eked out a living doing odd jobs. Yet he wasn't happy. After work he would stand at a bridge near his rented flat and watch the sun set. The fiery orange sphere reminded him of his past, of the time he was doing something laudable as a policeman. If anyone asked, he would have told them he used to be with the Border Guard. It wasn't a complete lie and besides, no one would believe him even if he did tell the truth. His primary duty was to protect the German people and their property and his unit did just that, albeit in a particularly unique fashion. The incident that made him what he is today happened in Iraq during a rocket attack on his convoy. All he remembered were the screams and explosions just before he was knocked out by a concussion. Next thing he knew he was in a hospital recovering from his wounds. The attackers later said that they mistook them for Americans and apologized. How pointless. Apologies can't bring back the dead neither could they give him back his career. Because of his injuries, he couldn't maintain the strict physical requirements of his unit and had to leave.

It was as he stood on the bridge gazing at the sun one evening that he was approached by another man. "Good evening, Herr Walther," the man greeted. Walther gave a start, and then turned to face the man. The man was a blond stranger wearing dark glasses and a long trenchcoat. To add to the mystery, he was a complete stranger. Then Walther froze. Standing just next to the man was a young blond girl of about twelve and she looked at him with blue eyes. She wasn't old enough to have a body that would titillate a young man of twenty-five like Walther, yet Walther kept his eye on her body, specifically at the region just under the left armpit where his trained eye spotted a barely discernible bulge. "I have come to offer you a job that would need your skills," began the blond stranger, and then he stopped. Clearly Walther was more interested in something other than a job prospect. He followed his gaze and raised his eyebrows. Walther caught that little gesture and broke out into a grin, "I'm so sorry. I must seem like a pervert to you. It's just that you Italians are so interesting. Honestly this is the first time someone has offered me a job accompanied by a girl with a gun in a shoulder holster. I think I don't have much choice, do I?" The blond stranger raised his eyebrows even further, then turned and strode towards a car parked by the side of the road, saying: "Follow me." He got into the back seat and the little girl got in beside him. It was then he caught a whiff of gunpowder from the girl and started to wonder what he had just got himself into.

So began Walther's life at the Agency. He thought he had seen it all during his service with the Border Guard but this was something else. He was briefed by the blond stranger who later identified himself as Jean and couldn't help but be horrified at what was going on. So all this was an elaborate set-up to turn little girls into fighting machines, literally. Anyway his duty for now was to stay in the complex and wait for further developments. That really irked him for he couldn't stand the inactivity and looked for ways to pass the time. He went for morning jogs around the complex, made small talk with the others and watched the girls train. Over time, doubt set in. Why was he chosen to do nothing in the agency?


	2. Chapter 2: The Change

**CHAPTER 2:THE CHANGE**

The answer came in the form of a form handed to him by one of the older guys just after breakfast. "Take good care of her" were his parting words before he walked off to attend to his charge, who went by the name of Henrietta. He knew that the newer cyborgs could be customized but when he looked at the form, he was truly disturbed. Height, weight, eye colour, hair colour... goodness, someone must have forgot that they were dealing with living, breathing humans, not some machine which could be adjusted to fit the operator's needs. He took the form back to his room and pondered over it. No matter what he did he couldn't bring himself to fill up that offensive form. In the end he picked up a pen and scribbled one line at the bottom: Must be 14 – 18 years old. Yes, in a fight it would set his mind at ease if a mentally and emotionally more mature person was fighting on his side. Besides, he was of the opinion that entrusting the whole mission to a girl of about ten to twelve years old was as preposterous as a mother leaving her son's safety in the paws of a mere dog, just like in that old television series he saw. What was its name again? Ah yes, Lassie. As for her name, he gave it a bit of thought and finally penned down Daniela. Daniela was the feminine form of the name Daniel, which meant judgement of God. Fairly apt, considering the work she would be involved in, except that the one doing the judging would be the SWA, who seemed to be playing God a lot.

Soon, the question of firearms came up. Walther favoured the weapons he had handled before and was proficient in, so the sidearm of choice was the H&K USP Tactical, of which there were two in the Agency's armoury. The other weapons were a bit problematic but he managed by acting under the pretence of procuring them for GIS. He chose the DSR1 because he had used it before and really liked its small size and phenomenal accuracy. That would be excellent in getting into tight spaces, taking a shot and getting out. Granted its design wasn't very good should the need to take a follow-up shot arise but, experience told him that it was too accurate for any real need for follow-up shot.


	3. Chapter 3: The Girl

**CHAPTER 3: THE GIRL **

Daniela entered his life about a week later. She was a raven-haired girl of about sixteen and stood at about 5 feet and 3 inches tall and if the circumstances were different, Walther thought, she would be out breaking young boys' hearts. The problem was that circumstances didn't allow it and from then on he began to teach her. When she wasn't attending lessons with the other girls, she was learning how to fight with Walther. She learnt how to subdue suspects, room clearing, observation and the like, though initially the exercises were carried out with dummy weapons because she still needed time to get used to her new limbs and was unsteady on her feet. One thing that Walther insisted on for Daniela was that the drugs they were doping her with be kept to a minimum. He saw what that stuff did to some of the girls and he didn't need any of that. He wanted her to be able to think for herself in a fire fight, unlike some of the other heavily doped girls who were blindly devoted to their handler that they would probably use themselves as a shield instead of pulling their handler behind some cover. As a result Daniela turned out to be an interesting character. She was capable of being stand-offish to the grownups at times and of course Walther did get many complaints about her.


	4. Chapter 4: The Mission

**CHAPTER 4: THE MISSION**

Their first mission came sooner than expected. Jean was briefing everyone on a plan to stop and assassinate some chap supplying weapons to the Padania when Walther couldn't help himself. "STOP," he yelled. "Let's not waste any more ammunition on a single person like him and leave it to me." He walked over to the map pinned up on the board and jabbed at it. "There's a convenient building over here overlooking his house. If your info is correct, when he leaves his house for the meeting he'll be dead before he reaches his car. If I fail, then you could always fall back to your original plan and block his car with a truck and have Triela, Henrietta and Angelica attack the car." Truth be told, Walther was quite irked by many of the mission executions where tactics seemed to go out of the window. Just because the girls are nearly invincible doesn't mean that the missions can be conducted like massive battles and expending ammunition was the priority. Jean, of course, wasn't too happy at this open challenge but he grudgingly accepted the plan.

On that day, Walther briefed Daniela about the mission and what she needed to prepare for it. She listened intently, taking in every word he said. Then they went back to their rooms to clean their weapons and pack their equipment. Later that afternoon they went to the range for some operational zeroing and then they packed their weapons into haversacks. In the evening, they boarded a truck driven by Jose and set off.

When they reached the area it was already dusk. They were dropped off about a block away and had to walk a bit to get to the building. As instructed by Walther, Daniela was wearing a black jacket over a dark blue T-shirt, dark blue jeans and a pair of soft-soled black shoes. Walther was dressed in similar fashion, only in his case he was wearing a pair of boots made by Adidas for his old unit. All that enabled them to blend into the shadows so that they weren't spotted by bystanders who happened to look in the right direction. When they reached the building, they drew their suppressed USPs and climbed in through one of the windows. Walther chose this building because it was newly abandoned so they wouldn't need to worry about vagabonds and it was in a quiet neighbourhood so they wouldn't need to worry about neighbours either. The USPs were merely a precaution. They crept up the stairs and, after a quick check for any signs that there were other humans around, headed straight for a room on the second floor. Daniela opened the door carefully, took a peek inside and whispered, "Clear." Before they went into the room, Walther took out a small pocket mirror and a tube of black camouflage cream. Daniela's clear white skin, though pleasing to the eye, was a problem especially on missions such as this and after she was done, Walther applied the cream on his face and back of his hands. Only then did they enter to room to set up. Light from the street lamp outside was streaming into the room through the window and Daniela remained true to his teaching, sticking stubbornly to the shadows as she made her way to the darker part of the room. Getting down on her belly, she slipped her DSR1 out of her haversack and unfolded the bipod just as Walther closed the door, got down on her left and started to unpack his equipment. "You did very well so far, Daniela." Walther whispered, "Now, load and get ready." On that command Daniela swiftly moved her right hand back to grasp the handle, chambered a 7.62 x 51mm HPBT round and settled into position. Walther peered into his spotter's scope and started to observe the area. They had an excellent view of their target's mansion and the area was well-lit by street lamps, making the night vision filter he brought along for her DSR1 redundant. "Do you see that long path leading from the door to the road? A car will stop by that road and he will walk along that path towards the car. That is the best time to engage." Walther did the usual checks with the spotting scope and range card he drew up earlier in a small notebook from maps and whispered to Daniela: "Distance is four hundred yards, just like when we did our zeroing this afternoon, no wind now so there's no need to adjust your aim. The elevation's a bit different from our range so ..." He did a quick mental calculation. "You need to adjust for slant aim. Raise your elevation by two clicks." He heard two soft clicks as Daniela turned the knobs on her rifle scope. Now began the waiting game as hours ticked away.


	5. Chapter 5: The Kill

**CHAPTER 5: THE KILL**

Walther saw him first. It was about nine in the evening and a man whom he recognized from the photographs supplied by Jean had just carried his daughter into her bedroom and was tucking her to sleep. "Walther, third window-" "No, hold it," Walther cut her off with a harsh whisper. "Why?" hissed Daniela, "I can hit him now." Something in her tone disturbed Walther and he took his eye off the spotter's scope for a moment. Daniela was still in that position he last saw her two hours ago but Walther could see that there were small differences. She had pulled the stock firm into the small of her shoulder and in the darkness he could see that her trigger finger had taken up the first stage. "Daniela, listen to me. The original plan was to ambush his car on his way to a meeting. Stray bullets and ricochet would get innocent people involved, not to mention put everyone's life in danger. We're here hiding in the darkness because I didn't want to get other people involved in our fight, so please do me and that little girl over there an act of kindness and don't shoot. Let's not draw in any more little girls into this fight between adults, ok?" Walther pleaded. There was a full minute of silence. Then Walther saw her slowly release the first pressure and move her index finger from the trigger to the trigger guard. "Thank you" Walther whispered as he heaved a sigh of relief. Going back to the scope, he saw the target reading a storybook to his daughter. She was about nine and her room was vaguely familiar, though Walther couldn't quite place it. Then it hit him. Just like one of the girls at the Agency, she had stuffed toys sitting on furniture around the room and though the magnification wasn't sufficient, he could have sworn they were teddy bears. If only Hillshire could see this, Walther mused. Perhaps it was an act of mercy that this nameless little girl didn't have to see her father die in front of her.

Soon the light in that room went off and Walther began to realize that nothing much had changed in his life. He was still doing exactly the same things he was doing when he was in the Border Guard with the only difference being his charges weren't a bunch of trained men but a single girl, and a particularly stand-offish one at that. His time to reflect was cut short with the opening of the front door of the mansion. That man who was tucking his daughter in a few minutes ago was now walking out of his house towards a maroon car parked along the side of the road. He was flanked by bodyguards but Walther still had a clear view of his head. Obviously they were more prepared for a frontal assault of the mansion than a long range attack. "All yours. Remember what I taught you and take your time," Walther whispered to Daniela. She pulled the stock firmly into the small of her shoulder with her right arm and controlled her breathing and muscle tension to allow the crosshairs to settle on his temple. Her index finger shifted from the trigger guard to the trigger and gently she took up the first stage and started to increase pressure on the second as she followed his movement along the path by guiding the barrel of her rifle with her left hand.

The roar of the rifle was deafening in the enclosed room. The HPBT round hit the man a quarter of an inch behind his right temple and continued on its way through his head, fragmenting into millions of tiny fragments as it tumbled. About a second later the report of the rifle reached the ears of his personal guard but it was too late. Their boss was in no position to be their boss anymore. Out of habit, Daniela called her shot by uttering "Right temple." Walther saw that telltale puff of pink, thumbed his handheld radio set and whispered into it: "Confirmed kill, right temple. Please come and pick us up." Then he hissed to Daniela a single word: "Pack." Swiftly the pair slipped their equipment into their haversacks, picked up the spent cartridge and stole out of the room. Outside the room Walther took out a packet of tissues and they wiped off the black cream before proceeding to leave the building the same way they came in – silently.

As they waited for the truck, Walther gave her a quick debrief. "You forgot to consider the fact that he was moving, so you hit him a quarter of an inch behind the temple. Anyway, you did well." Daniela was quite puzzled. She had made a fundamental mistake and yet she had done well? Walther noticed that puzzled look and explained himself: "When people have to resort to shooting at each other to settle their differences, something has gone very wrong. As such, there's no such thing as a good shot, only one that does what you want it to do. Tonight, I said you did a good job because we accomplished what we set out to do and came back alive and safe. That's quite enough for your first time." Walther paused for a while. "How about we take tomorrow's training off and go to town for some shopping? Consider that your reward for tonight, ok?" In response Daniela gave him a little smile. Here was another difference, Walther mused. None of the men under his charge back in his old unit ever gave him that kind of look and he would it strangely ... pleasing. Yes, it was a difference he could live with.


	6. Chapter 6: The Past

**CHAPTER 6:THE PAST**

Later that night, Walther was unpacking his equipment when he was struck by a sudden thought. He knew nothing about Daniela's past and the best person to tell him was in no position to because of her conditioning. Of course there was always another fairly reliable source, one which he had yet to consult. He searched the table for that dossier and found it. Its contents were as horrifying as they were heart-wrenching. She was the victim of a car accident. The driver was drunk and ran her over. He was probably too stoned to comprehend the meaning of the commotion around him and that unexpected hump in the road, thought Walther, because in front of horrified eyewitnesses, he looked behind as though he was looking for something and then reversed his car. Of course, being so drunk he lost control and slammed into a wall, killing himself instantly and leaving a young girl barely alive in the middle of the road. As a former policeman he knew that around the world terrible things like this happened, though they are rarely talked about and would never fail to shake your faith in the good in humans. It appears that freak accidents involving cars landed the both of them in this complex. "We do have a lot in common, Daniela," thought Walther aloud.

Fate must be a person with a terrible sense of humour.


End file.
